Teresa Takes Charge
by Entwife Incognito
Summary: The bullpen couch is fine for a little nap. But you know how guys wake up after a deep sleep! Teresa Lisbon knows what's going on and what to do about it. Just a little romp about two people who already know how they feel about each other. They just haven't said. Hope it's fun! DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything about The Mentalist. AU-Red John is already dead!


Teresa Lisbon was tired of waiting for Patrick Jane to make his feelings known to her. She knew he loved her. He knew she knew. And she knew that he knew she loved him in return. Thinking about it would make anyone's head hurt. All the delay was totally Jane's doing. Chasing Red John. Well, Red John was in the ground now. What was the hold up?

Lisbon came out of her office to the bullpen where the rest of the team had their desks. She stopped short of entering the room. What was going on? The whole team was red-faced and looking at, then away, from what? She walked into the room. They were sniggering at Jane who was asleep on his couch. He was on his back, muttering a little. Damn! He had fallen deeply asleep for the third day in a row. His insomnia must be really bad again.

As she approached Jane, the others snapped their attention away, looking at their desks. Van Pelt was beet red and had her hand to her face. Rigsby was nearly as red, looking at his hands, smirking and shaking his head. Lisbon heard him say quietly, "Dude. Dude." Cho was staring rigidly ahead, shaking in mirth, tears actually running down his face! What the hell?

When she moved closer to Jane, she realized at once why her team was totally unwound. At first glance Jane had his hands in his lap and was wiggling as people may during a dream. Looking closer, Lisbon saw that Jane had a grip on his, well, privates. If it wasn't for the placement of his hands, a casual observer might think Jane was only stretching his hips in his sleep. That, and the unintelligible muttering and slightly breathy moaning. Good God! This was too much! She blushed immediately, thoroughly embarrassed.

"Hey! Jane!" Lisbon used her command voice, but Jane did not wake. She moved closer, turned her head away from him, shook his shoulder and yelled, "Jane!"

Patrick Jane's whole body jerked as he woke abruptly. He looked blearily at the boss. "Lisbon? We caught a case?"

Lisbon frowned and rolled her eyes pointedly towards his hands twice, hoping he would realize his posture. The third time proved the charm and Jane said, "Oh!" and removed his hand instantly. He smiled sheepishly and had the decency to muster a pale blush. When he saw that his arousal was evident, Jane reached back and grabbed the throw behind him to cover the offending area. "Uh. Sorry. Sweet dreams."

The rest of the team was laughing out loud now. Van Pelt added drama by yelling in a falsetto voice, "My eyes! My eyes!" The others broke into near-hysteria.

Lisbon was steamed. "What are we running here, a junior high school? Everybody back to work. That's enough. Show's over. Jane. With me. With me. With me. Now."

"Uh. Lisbon. Give me a minute, okay?" He honestly didn't want to make things worse by standing up in his condition.

"Jesus, Jane!" Lisbon said in exasperation and clomped out of the bullpen to her office as the rest of the team completely broke down in laughter. "Hush! Now!" She entered her office to the choking of their clamped-down laughter and immediately began closing the blinds to create the privacy that would be needed. Another situation with Jane. Well, at least this wouldn't make the papers or flood her desk with complaints. Cho, Rigsby and Van Pelt were having too much fun with it to complain. Well, she was going to enjoy putting the screws to Patrick Jane.

Lisbon heard a light tapping at her door. Turning, she saw it was Jane and waved him in. He started for her couch.

"Shut the door." He did as she asked and headed for the couch again. "And sit in a chair." Jane stopped and pivoted to a chair in front of her desk. He wagged his head from side to side, mimicking her tone in his mind. Okay. This was going to be unpleasant. He grimaced in anticipation. He seated himself and waited quietly while Lisbon stretched out the time and let him sweat it.

Finally she looked up and stared at him a moment. "What were you thinking?"

"Well. I'm sorry, Lisbon. I wasn't thinking. I fell asleep. It's no big deal. We're all adults. We've all been there."

"That doesn't make me feel better, Jane. And never in my entire career have I "been there" on the job or at the office. Nor have I seen anyone else "there." Jane. You have to start getting some regular sleep at night. You can't be falling so deep asleep on that couch that you're, well, completely unconscious of your actions."

"Well, thank you for that, Lisbon. I was not conscious of my actions."

"Of course you weren't, Jane. I know you better than that. But look. You were this far from a wet dream while we all watched." She indicated a tiny distance with her thumb and index finger.

Jane smirked. She was going to let him off easy. He tried for humor. "It's bigger than that, Lisbon."

"What? Oh, my god! Jane. That is so inappropriate." Lisbon was not smiling.

Jane groaned a little under his breath that his joke had fallen flat and muttered, "Oh. Yep. Yep." To Lisbon, he said, "Sorry. Just trying to diffuse the tension." He paused, waiting for Lisbon to continue. When she didn't, he said, "You wanted to talk about it. Don't you want to know about my dream, Lisbon?"

"Hell, no. I don't want to know about that."

"I don't believe you. Of course you do. Who doesn't want to know about other people's sex lives, huh?" Jane smiled wanly.

Lisbon snorted. "That's your sex life? Wet dreams on the bullpen couch?"

"Ouch, Lisbon. Ouch. That's not what I meant."

Lisbon was really enjoying that Jane was on the defensive and trying to work his way out by distractions and tricks. She'd call him on it. "Okay. Tell me your dream." She swept an arm towards him in invitation.

Caught! Well, that's what he got for improving her poker game. "Forget it. It's no fun, now."

"Oh. You're getting your chops busted now, so it's not so funny. Ho ho! Dish it out. Can't take it. I see." Lisbon smiled at her small triumph.

"Okay. You really want to talk about this?"

"No. Actually, I've lost interest. Anyway, you think I actually don't know?"

Patrick was startled and shifted in his chair. Lisbon was upping the ante. She was untying the bag that had the cat in it. "Oh. You're the psychic now?"

"Doesn't take a psychic, Jane." Lisbon took a deep breath. How far could she take this? She didn't know, herself. "How long have we known each other, ten years now? Working together nearly every night and day? Saving each other's lives? Looking out for each other? Learning how to be real partners to each other? You say yourself that you have no other life. You're a healthy man, Jane. Doesn't take a psychic to know who you dream about that, that gets you, uh, that way."

Jane was very quiet now. She had him. His heart was racing and he felt very warm. His love for Lisbon kept him up every night. Or rather, his reluctance, no, fear, to declare himself. Did he really want to change his life that much? If he fell asleep, he awoke shortly in a fever, in the same condition, or worse, as on the bullpen couch just then. How long did he expect her to wait? Did he want to wait? His indecision and silence was wrecking him and certainly not fooling Lisbon anymore.

Lisbon watched Jane's face as his thoughts flowed across it like a river of shadow and light. This was not the place for this conversation. "It's all right, Jane. We can talk about it later. Now go home. And get some sleep! We'll call you if a case comes in."

Jane stood up. He looked into Lisbon's beautiful green eyes. "Lisbon. You're right. Every word you say is true. I'm your man."

"I know, Jane. And I'm your woman. I'm ready for you." She returned his steady gaze.

Jane leaned over her desk and Lisbon leaned forward to meet him. He cupped the side of her head, fingers in her hair, and drew her cheek to his lips where he pressed a kiss. Stepping back, he said, "I'll see you later tonight, Lisbon. Teresa."

"My place or yours, Patrick?"

"Mine. I've already made a nest for us."

"You won't be getting any sleep again."

"Ah. But not for the same reasons. I love you, Teresa."

"And I love you, Patrick. Let's have a life."

They smiled again and Patrick took his leave, the weight of his indecision lifted and the weightlessness of love filling his soul.


End file.
